Sky of Home

Chapter 1

          Here’s my big chance. Spencer Wade chuckled quietly, crouched behind some overgrown juniper bushes. He lifted a branch and peeked at Mark and Logan sitting by the gurgling creek, smoking cigarettes. Their packs were lying on the grass along with a few crushed cans.

          “Got another can of pop?” Mark asked, wiping his hands on his black jeans and tying back his dreadlocks. His tanned skin looked even darker against his white T-shirt.

Logan handed him the last can then leaned on his elbow, his knee protruding from his torn jeans. His smirk revealed stained, crooked teeth that were almost the same color as his spiked mohawk.

             Spencer slipped his arm between two bushes reaching for the packs of cigarettes. Damn, I can’t reach. He leaned forward, stretching his fingers, but barely touched the edge of one pack. He pulled back his arm and searched around. This will do. He snatched a small branch, slightly curved at one end, and slid his arm through the evergreens. Keeping an eye on the bullies, he pulled the packs within his grasp. Got ‘em.

He slithered up stream, squatting behind a boulder, and threw the cigarettes into the creek, one by one. They taunted me and my friends once too many. Revenge on the bullies! He smiled as he watched each cigarette fall in the water and float by his enemies.

            “Hey man, look! Some dimwit lost his cigarettes.” Logan sat up.

            “Idiot!” Mark reached for his pack. “Hey, where’s my pack?”

            “On the grass. Are you blind?” Logan said.

            “Give it back, man.”  Mark twisted around, feeling for the cigarettes.

            “I don’t have them. Someone took them,” Logan shouted.
            Spencer heard rustling in the bushes. Frowning, he looked up and saw Mark and Logan searching around. Flinging one last cigarette into the creek, he turned and darted away with Mark and Logan at his heels.

            He sprinted down the sidewalk, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He leaped over a decorative fence and crossed a backyard. He huffed as he began climbing over a chain link fence. From the corner of his eye he saw a Doberman bare its teeth. Could he out run it? He looked back and saw Mark and Logan gaining on him. In a flash, he jumped down and ran across the yard, climbed over the gate and collapsed on the other side. I did it!  

He caught his breath, got up and ran across the street and down the sidewalk.  Turning his head slightly, he noticed that the bullies were on his trail again. When he turned into the parking lot of the corner store, Logan tackled him.

            Spencer scraped his hands as he broke the fall. Logan slammed his fist on Spencer’s back and he groaned. Pulling himself away, Spencer sprung to his feet, only to receive Mark’s fist in his eye.

            “Get lost or you’ll feel my blade,” said a deep, gruff voice. Six foot tall and bulky, the fifteen year old glared at the bullies, flaunting his pocket knife.

            “Tyler, we’re buds, man. This idiot stole our cigarettes,” Mark said.

            Tyler Braxton’s two inch blade shimmered in the sunlight. “Leave the idiot to me,” he said.

            “We wanna fight our own battles,” Logan yelled, waiving his fist.

            “This is my turf. Get lost.” Tyler took a small step toward them, holding up his knife, a scowl on his face.

            Mark and Logan darted away. Spencer staggered and leaned against the wall.

            “You owe me,” Tyler Braxton said.

            “Thanks, man.” Spencer turned away.

            “I said you owe me,” Tyler hissed.

            “What do you want?” Spencer looked back at Tyler with an expressionless face, then broke into his favorite smile, the one that made him look like a moron.

            “You look retarded. Go into the store and steal a pack of cigarettes for me.”

            Spencer hid his trembling hands in his pockets.

            “Cigarettes?” he said, with the same stupid smile. “They have cigarettes in there?”

            “You are a retard.” Tyler approached Spencer until their faces were only inches apart, and waved the knife in his face. Spencer gazed at the knife but didn’t flinch. “You wanna keep your nose? Get me cigarettes.”

            “Look man, they know me in there. There’s no way I can sneak out with something. I’ll pay you back some other way,” Spencer said.

            “Coward! Maybe I do have another use for you. I’ll see you around.”

            As Tyler hurried away, Spencer noticed a police car pulling into the parking lot. Officer Parker always came to the store in the afternoon to buy a bottle of pop. Yea! Who’s the real coward? Look at him run from the cops.  

            Spencer rushed home, hoping he’d make it back before his dad. If Mom saw him first, she would give him an ice pack for his eye and that would be the end of it. But if Dad saw him first, he would call him to the office, preach to him about staying out of trouble and then give him some task to perform.

His eye began to throb. Why did Tyler get involved? He doesn’t care about anyone. What does he want from me? He strode down the sidewalk toward his house and saw his dad’s car pulling into the driveway.

He sped up and crossed the front yard as his dad parked the car in the garage.  Man, am I gonna squeak by him? Spencer darted in the side door and nearly bumped into his dad.

            “Spencer, another black eye? What did you do this time?” Dad said. Tony Wade carried himself with authority. He looked like he was standing in front of his troops ready to give his orders. He had been an officer in the Navy for so long, that Spencer often felt he was treated like one of his dad’s soldiers.

            Looking up at his dad, Spencer broke into his stupid smile.

            “Where do you keep your brain, son? I know you have one.”

            “I don’t know,” Spencer said with a shrug.

            “Come to my office.”

            Dad strode to his cherry wood desk in the middle of the office and sat on his high backed leather chair. Spencer glanced at the military action figures that filled the curio cabinets lining the walls. He could never figure out why his dad had so many of them. And did he really read all the history books lined up in the bookshelves?

Spencer walked toward the desk and turned to his father.

            “Wipe that stupid smile off your face and tell me how you got your black eye this time.”

            “I don’t know,” he said.

            Dad’s eyes narrowed as he stared down his son.  Spencer knew that look very well. If he didn’t answer, his father would discipline him.

            “Mark and Logan chased me. Logan tackled me and Mark punched me,” Spencer said.

            “And how did you provoke them?”

            “I didn’t do anything, Dad!”

            Dad crossed his arms on his chest and waited for his son to continue.

            “I took their cigarettes and threw them in the creek. They’re not supposed to smoke anyway. I did them a favor.”

            Spencer planted a pair of pleading eyes on his dad.

            “Son, you got what you deserved. Anyway, I want to give you a math lesson before dinner. I used to be very good in geometry.”

            “Aaaaaah…I have homework.”

            Dad smiled.

            “Fine. Bring your homework in here and I’ll watch you do it.”

Me and my big mouth. “I forgot, I don’t have any homework. I did it in school.”

            Spencer stared at the desk, twisting his fingers. Damn! How do I tell Dad I hate school?  I bet he’s so disappointed in me.

             “I have a note here from your math teacher saying you already owe him two weeks’ worth of homework,” Dad said. “Your history teacher sent me an email saying you owe him two assignments. Shall I go on?”

            “My backpack is empty. I left everything in school.” Spencer put on his stupid smile and added, “But I’m smart. I don’t need to do homework.”

            Dad clenched his fist and slammed it on his desk. Spencer shuddered.

            “You started tenth grade two weeks ago and I already have meetings with your teachers. They’re all convinced you have learning issues and want to evaluate you and put you in a special ed class. I know better. You just don’t want to use your brain. This is your last chance. After that it’s military school for you.”

            “Can I go now?” Spencer asked. He stared at the creases on his dad’s forehead and felt as if a flock of birds swarmed up to his heart and dove back to his stomach.

            Dad rested his forehead on his hands. Spencer sauntered to one of the curio cabinets and bent over to look at the figures on the third shelf. Showing interest in the figures always cheered his dad. He saw it as a chance to impart his knowledge to his son. “Dad?” he called.

Dad stood and joined his son. “You like them, Spencer?” He opened one of the doors. “The figures in this group all represent real people in history. Not all of them started as good students, but all of them excelled in life. Which one do you like best?”

            “Cool. You have a Chinese one,” Spencer smiled as he picked up one of the figures.

            “He’s Japanese, Lieutenant General Tadamichi Kuribayashi. He defended the island of Iwo Jima during WWII. With his twenty one thousand men, he bravely fought against us, causing us many casualties. We won in the end, killing almost all of them.”

            “Tada what?”

            Dad shook his head. He walked to one of the bookcases and took out a book.

            “Take a look at this book Spencer. It’s an easy read. I think you would like it. You can learn a lot about General Kuribayashi and the battle on Iwo Jima. It’s based on the letters of the General.”

            Spencer wrinkled his nose and put the figure down. Taking the book in his hands he gazed at the picture of the general. He held up the book, wanting to hand it back, and met his father’s beaming smile.

“Yeah, great. I’ll… ah… I’m sure I’ll enjoy it.” Great, stuck reading a book about someone whose name I can’t pronounce.

            Spencer sauntered up the stairs and to his room. He set the book on his nightstand, and opened the drawer, pulling out another book: The Elegant Universe by Brian Greene.

            He admired the cover, then turned to page thirty-seven.  His eyes gleamed and his lips parted into a delighted smile as he leaned back and immersed himself in his book. This was his well-guarded secret.

*************************************

           

Spencer crossed the empty field behind the high school and veered left to go around to the front. He spotted Logan’s spiky mohawk and his heart began to race. He spun around and ran the other way.

            “Hey Matt, wait up,” he yelled, seeing his friend hurry toward the double doors. “Guess what?”

            “Look at you, man, you got another black eye.” Matt shook his head. Short for his age, he looked up at Spencer through thick glasses that made him look like a nerd. His brush cut and his green T-shirt with a collar added to his nerdy look. Expensive sneakers and signature jeans didn’t improve his appearance.

            “I stole their cigarettes.” Spencer broke into laughter.

            They strolled to their lockers. “Spencer, one day they’ll beat the shit out of you.”

            “Naw, I always get away. Someone has to teach them a lesson. Yesterday they stole Kevin’s lunch money and the day before they pushed Trevor in the mud.”

            They slammed their lockers and headed in opposite directions.

            “Se ya in English.” Spencer strode away. I hate math. It’s so boring. He walked into math class and plopped in a seat in the back row. He slammed his book and folder on the desk and slouched down, arms crossed on his chest.

            I can’t wait till English class. Myriam is soooo hot. He sighed. She’ll never notice me.

            “Mr. Wade, I told you yesterday to sit up front.” Mr. Pendleton, wearing a suit and tie, tapped his fingers on Spencer’s desk.

            Spencer broke into his dim-witted smile. “But I like it here.”

Mr. Pendleton narrowed his eyes and cleared his throat.

“Sure thing, Mr. P.” Spencer gathered his books and moved to the front.

            “I want you up on the board, Mr. Wade. Write everything I tell you to write. Maybe you’ll learn something.” Mr. Pendleton leaned against his desk so that he could see the class and glance at Spencer every now and then.

This is gonna be a long hour. I’ve got an idea. He started writing very long equations, jumbling numbers, letters and symbols in a nonsensical order. Five minutes into his lecture, Mr. Pendleton turned his head and dropped his jaw.

            “Mr. Wade, what’s that?” the teacher asked.

            “I don’t know, Mr. P.” Spencer turned and gave Mr. Pendleton his vacant stare and idiotic smile.

            “Mr. Wade, wipe that smile off your face. This is not kindergarten.”

            “Oh, yeah, I know. I saw stuff like this in a book once,” he said.

            Mr. Pendleton pursed his lips, shaking his head. “Erase that and go back to your seat.”

            “Sure thing Mr. P.”

            Mr. Pendleton threw his arms up in the air, leaned back against his desk and continued his lecture.

            Eventually the bell rang. Spencer grabbed his books and was the first one out the door. He reached his locker and saw Matt.

            “Matt, I just screwed with Mr. P.”

            “What’d you do?” Matt took out his English book and slammed his locker.

“I decided to be a smart ass.”  With a beaming grin, Spencer related what he did.

“Man, I don’t know why you gatta pretend to be an idiot. Betcha Mr. Pendleton’s gonna want to tutor you, like he tried last year.”

Spencer slammed his locker and turned to his friend. “I know how to drive him crazy.”

“You’re horrible.” Matt pulled on the combination lock to make sure it wouldn’t open and they sauntered down the hall. They reached English class and sat in the third row. From his seat, Spencer could always stare at Myriam.

“Here she comes,” Spencer said, his heart in his throat. “She’s so hot.”

“Stop, you’re making me sick. If you like her so much, why don’t you say hi to her?” Matt waved his hand impatiently.

“She hates me. Sometimes my mom sends me to her house to borrow some flour or sugar. Sometimes I pretend my mother sends me, just so I can see her. She’s always mean to me.”

            Spencer turned and saw Tyler staring at him with a big grin and then looking toward Myriam. Spencer made sure the teacher wasn’t looking and flipped him the finger. Then he turned and gazed at Myriam for the rest of the hour. He jerked when the bell rang.

            “See you in Mr. C’s class,” Spencer said.

            “You don’t even know what our assignment is.” Matt hit his forehead with the palm of his hand. Spencer ignored him and ran out.  A couple of hours later, Spencer and Matt came together in Mr. Copeland’s social studies class.

            “Are you going to pay attention? Mr. C makes history fun. You could stand to learn a thing or two.” Matt took his seat in the fourth row, next to Spencer.

            “No! I get enough history from my dad. Look, the janitor cleaned my desk and now I can draw on it again. Mr. C always gives me dirty looks when he sees me doodling.” He took out his pencil and scribbled on his desk. Sometimes he looked up and saw Mr. Copeland scowling at him.

            He looked down and drew a diagram. Lily, now, why the heck am I thinking about Lily? She was Myriam’s younger sister. He completed the diagram, all along thinking about Lily. This is weird. It’s like I can see her drawing the same diagram. That’s stupid, she’s in kindergarten.

            Spencer shook his head and kept doodling. “Hey, Matt,” he whispered.

            “Shut up, Spencer. You wanna get me in trouble?” Matt leaned slightly toward his friend.

            “Wanna catch a movie later?”

            Matt rolled his eyes. “Now you did it. Mr. C’s coming this way.”

            “Time for a surprise quiz,” Mr. Copeland said. Spencer jolted. Mr. C was standing right in front of him, a smirk on his face.

Spencer put on his usual smile. “Mr. C, I love surprise quizzes.”

            “Yes, and you flunk them every time.” Mr. Copeland walked back to the front of the class.

            “Now you’re in trouble,” Matt whispered. “This is gonna be the second quiz you flunk. I don’t get you Spencer. All you gotta do is pay attention.”

            “I don’t care, Matt. I only wanna learn about the universe.”

            The bell rang as the students turned in their quizzes. Spencer placed his at the top of the pile.

            “Spencer,” Mr. Copeland said. Spencer thought his teacher’s clear blue eyes were going to pierce right through him. “I’m going to figure you out. I’ll find a way to get through to you.”